


Euphoria

by helena_s_renn



Category: Def Leppard, Music RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, Frottage, Initiation, M/M, Multi, Music Studio, Orgy, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2020-06-29 09:46:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19827574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helena_s_renn/pseuds/helena_s_renn
Summary: Funny how all the sexiest songs are Viv songs.Or, the one where Vivian officially gets 'inducted', if a few years late.





	1. Day After Day, There's a Voice Deep Inside Me

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for "DL band orgy" for RF's 2017 Ficmas. No one wrote that prompt, so I decided to. As of the posting date of Ch. 1 it's still a WIP but after more than a year, I'll post what I have in no set schedule. 
> 
> Ch. 1 contains no smut, so enjoy the slightly more circumspect look while you can. There WILL be eventual higher ratings and add'l tags. Orgy? Hello! 
> 
> No disrespect is ever intended to the real members of Def Leppard or others mentioned. I don't know them. The fictional characters portrayed below just happen to resemble them. 
> 
> On a similar note, I am in NO way claiming to represent RL Viv's or any DL's opinions - past or present - on any topics touched on here. They're not all my views, either. It's fiction!

\- 1999

When Viv had been hired, or really, when he had joined Def Leppard, it was a band that had set itself apart not only by sheer record sales, but also by work ethic and style. Even at the pinnacle of their teenaged swagger, or later, trotting out the live versions of slickly-produced hair-glam-metal performed on a circular stage, they had a certain class. Not the British which-caste-do-you-belong-to type of class, but musically speaking. This was the sort of outfit Viv ascribed to, that he had already tried to find several times, but it hadn't stuck or he hadn't. 

So he learned what were to be his parts and they went on the road and it was a thrill and a hoot and a riot. The others considered themselves too old for the antics of previous tours now, and just as well. He knew his profile and silhouette didn't match that of the man whose mantle he carried, like it or not. Nor did it, the other who rarely if ever came up, who'd had a huge, tiny hand in their early sound. So in that sense, Viv looked forward to getting into the studio with them, to create works he could be a part of, going forward. 

Retroactive, as much as he liked the darker sound, was a lot rehash with some experimenting that, he thought, was self-indulgent and sometimes plodding. Then came Slang, and if he never listened to most of that glorified mess again, it would be too soon. How he'd managed to sing much less play was all part of the mental block. Yes, the world had changed from the MTV video-driven plastic virginal whore ideal of the 80s into something darker, making Xanax-popping, absinthe-swilling, plaid flannel-wearing angry couch dwellers of everyone, but weren't they supposed to be classic? 

Then came a couple of random singles. Like the world needed more power ballads or to see what success looked like inside a rock star's overly pristine domicile. It smacked of desperation, over the hill in a puff of smoke.

So now they were at it again. The prospectus was to return to their 'former sound', but which sound was that? More and more, they were pushing bright riffs and a huge wall of layered vocals which, admittedly, he fit very well into, but this wasn't what he wanted to be doing and not what he thought he'd signed up for. They still brought bits of Steve out of their vaults every now and then. Was the supply endless? It felt like cheating to him, a viewpoint that Viv kept to himself. If this album got finished, released, and bore his name, he could at least add it to his CV before he went looking for other prospects again. 

He loved, okay not like that, but he did have the highest esteem for the others, despite not always agreeing with the musical direction. They'd managed to hold it together in the face of massive adversity and hang on, keep going. Since he'd joined, there'd been marriages, divorces, Sav's facial paralysis and the major shitstorm Rick had created for himself a few years back. He felt bad for the circumstances leading to it, and struggled not to treat Rick any different than before. Maybe he was wrong, having grown up in a culture where a fiery temper and the outbursts that accompanied it was the norm, or at least the stereotype. 

And maybe they - the others - were a little too close. Viv recognized that for what it was, something akin to what he'd read could happen on a battle front, the comfort of a trusted friend, a brotherhood of sorts. Occasionally, the air would thicken around them, forcing him, the outsider, to withdraw or at least shut up. Which was stupid. Viv was confident in his abilities and so were they. But it wasn't about his musical acumen. 

Besides talented or for sure driven, the other four were ridiculously attractive. All of them - in different ways, of course - but Viv... well, he wasn't up to that sort of par. He felt like a hairy, pointed little gnome, and maybe Phil was smaller and hairier but at least it was blond-ish and he had muscles on his muscles and an arse one could bounce spare change off of. 

Sav, he couldn't even look at beyond what was necessary for gigs, recording, rehearsal, etcetera; his brand of androgyny was just too much. Fuck yeah, Viv was into women but he didn't know what to do with this bloke that toed the line between genders with his pretty, pretty hair and face, and then his obviously male body, speaking voice and psyche. A few seconds at most and Viv had to regroup behind his lowered eyelids for the rest of the day. Why couldn't they have put him on the far side of Phil? 

Joe was kind of the opposite in that his presence was so commanding - demanding - that Viv couldn't stop staring at him sometimes, had to force himself to look away. That was all power, machismo, force of will, somewhere between the penetrating eyes and the unavoidable obscenity of his lace-up leather pants. Joe bitch-faced like no other. Most of the time he didn't mean anything by it but you did not want to get on his bad side.

Rick, well, that man was just plain sneaky. He was always appearing stealthily out of nowhere, ready to laugh at Viv's jump-scares. His appeal was more subtle, maybe... chameleon-like, there were layers to it. Silly to judge a man's looks on his earrings and the red-gold of his stubble and flyaway curls but there it was. Coupled with the fire-and-ice in his eyes, this one was the most dangerous when not their sunshine, sunflower sweetie. 

Despite the vibe that they were all straight, they... weren't. Viv wasn't sure how he knew. It wasn't his gaydar going off, nor had he ever caught any of them in anything resembling a compromising position. Well. Not with a bloke. And for Christsake, he wasn't gay. If Coverdale couldn't turn him - and he'd tried - no one could.


	2. All Night (Part 1) - Shouldn't Wanna Do What You Wouldn't Want me To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A studio day... or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I upped the rating mostly for insinuation. 
> 
> Borrowed a RL person/non-rock star. Any of you who have ever seen the earlier of 2 [Sav] rig run-downs (2006?) will know exactly what I'm talking about. As always, I don't know him and 0% disrespect intended! In this dude's place, I'd be exactly the same.

The sky loomed high and low, one weird unbalanced half-shell. Partially overcast in the north, but so dark it eclipsed the south in a huge bank of black clouds that fell nearly all the way to the earth. The air smelled of impending rain. On his way from a parking spot he'd found on a side street to the studio, a fat drop hit Viv in the centre of his forehead. 

The sky flashed blinding white followed by thunder which crashed so loud and so close by he felt it in his bones, like how he imagined it would feel on the far end of teleportation: taken apart and put back together. To save his guitar case, Viv ran the last half block and darted through the door Rick was holding open for him from the inside. Rick nodded at him, passing him on quick bare feet in a mostly dark hallway. 

What sounded like a deluge pelted the roof. Today might not be so productive - Viv didn't think he could concentrate on playing his best with the erratic core thunder shaking the walls. He took out his gold top and tuned up, wondering why it was so devoid of life in the studio today. Most days, he'd have been greeted by four or five assistants or hangers-on by now. 

From around a corner, he overheard heard Joe say to Phil, "Are you absolutely sure? It's been so long already." 

Phil cut off their frontman curtly. "Should have put our cards down on the table during the first tour."

"Yeah but he never tried--"

"For fuck's sake, Joe, why do you suppose..." Viv backed away so he wouldn't hear the rest - he shouldn't be eavesdropping.

'First tour?' Phil hadn't joined Leppard till what, their third or fourth tour, so he could only mean Viv's first tour with them. Viv's guts tightened; he wondered what he'd done to piss them off or offend them. For years now, they'd lived, worked, and played together for months at a time. They should have just said something. 

He nearly backed into Sav, who steered him further into the interior where the air held a weird electric charge as well, something like a faint mix of balsamic and sandlewood soap atomising from his bandmates. On cue, the others appeared out of doorways and around corners. Advancing on him like it was a military deployment, they herded him into the sound booth, where the five of them crowded around one mike. 

What the fuck was going on, Viv wondered. This was not normal. They recorded one part at a time, starting with Joe; then usually Phil to sing a straight harmony or an echo; lastly, Viv and Sav to embellish the high end. And what was Rick doing in here? He'd sworn off vocals, though no one really understood why. Belatedly, Viv grabbed the pair of headphones Joe held out to him while announcing the song, green-glass eyes cutting askance from on high at his sluggish reaction time. The sense of relief that they weren't sacking him surprised Viv in its intensity, in light of his ambivalence about what they were writing the last few years. It felt like liquid light flowing through his body. 

The others had recorded simultaneously once before, during their arduous takes for White Lightening, Viv knew that. They had poured their souls' abject grief into that song. But he had no idea what the fuck they were thinking of, with this... this. Every album had filler. This was filler. Feeling he'd have nothing to add to the likes of such a piece of... music, Viv considered sitting it out. 

They wouldn't let him. "We've kinda got the parts worked out, but we need your contribution," Joe offered. Was he _leering_ at Viv? 'Contribution', Viv's arse! Joe's intonation insinuated that he was asking for a sperm sample. Perv. The lead singer continued, "Aiden's running the board. He won't say anything... about anything."

Viv raised his eyebrows. Aiden? Everyone was aware of the bass tech's ginormous man-crash on Sav. How far did "can do no wrong" go, exactly? Aiden could and probably had written the book on that subject. If Viv was asking himself that question, what he was sensing was, frankly, scaring him. Not as in fear for his person, but doubt of himself, of how he'd behave under certain circumstances. 

The playback minus vocals came for him to refamilarise himself, and immediately Viv could hear that it had been worked up far more than any demo or rough track. No metal here, no hard rock, was it even rock? Funk light? KC and the Sunshine Band, meet Jesus Christ Superstar. This was... this needed to be done as part of an off-off-Broadway production in New York City, somewhere mid-show close to intermission with a short reprisal during the finale. Musical theatre it was NOT, however. It sounded like the back room at a strip club. He heard funky Prince-style licks rolling out, directly into his ears. Phil's strings had produced that...!? Or was it Mutt? Incomprehensible! No, this had to be pure Phil because look at the smirk on that gob, it was filthy as fuck. 

That alone, Viv could have handled. But the hiccupping rhythm of the bassline in the chorus mimicked exactly how Sav bucked his hips on stage when he forgot about the audience. Viv recognized it immediately, in awe - and in lust - of its captured musical interpretation. Phil's guitar was sliding around all over like a pair of oiled-up female mud wrestlers in slow-mo. Viv had to erase those comparisons from his mind or dissolve into a puddle. After the intro, first verse, and chorus, the soundtrack damped down into silence. Somehow, he composed himself before the next playback. 

"Ready?" said someone, Viv wasn't even sure who, and the music came up again. This time Joe started in, and by the end of the second line he'd already devolved into sexed-up moaning and grunting. "As you may guess when you hear it, we're recording vocals today," Phil had told him earlier on the phone when he'd rung about a change of schedule. Vocals, was that what they were calling it? It only got worse during the transition, where Joe threw 'make love' twice in as many lines between desperate, needy wails. 

Totally unexpected, the other three inhaled and burst into harmony: Phil with his dirty grit, Rick holding what was usually Viv's middle ground and Sav doing something so high and strident that Viv feared for his vocal cords. Holy shit, they'd practiced. A lot, he was betting. Were they trying to seduce him or something? What was the word? Serenade. No fucking way.

The guitar and bass choked back at the tail end of the chorus and it started it all over again. Yeah, they were well-known for innuendo but this was in-your-face, lyrics lowballing credulity, _I wanna do it all night... wanna have it... wanna taste you..._ It was sex on legs, on its knees, riding cowgirl-style and up against the wall and Viv was lost, utterly lost. He hadn't had such an inconvenient boner since he was thirteen. Why hadn't he worn a longer shirt?

"Stop, stop, stop!" Viv waved his hands around in front of his chest, hoping no one looked down, having the feeling they all were. The track ended abruptly and he spoke overloud. "I don't understand what I'm supposed to do... where I fit in." 

"Just... go with it," Phil peered at him, mouth half open in that odd little smile. 

"Yeah... do what you feel." Joe. 

Between them, Sav nodded, his innocent-not-innocent semi-neutral expression making Viv almost queasy with inappropriate arousal. "You fit in fine... right in the middle." In the middle... of what? Of whom? 

"Just open your mouth," smirked Rick. No one had moved out of place, but Viv's hearing and perception were playing tricks, telling him that the others were circling around him, a four-man whirlpool into the hidden depths of his secrets.


	3. All Night (Part 2) - Make a Man Go Further Than He's Ever Been Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, the whole fic was going to be called, "All Night". 
> 
> Borrowing the OC/RL person again. Same comment on that subject as last chapter. Add'l tags added, too.

The track started again. 

It had been a long time, but Viv could remember the dreamlike unreality of an acid trip - the good kind - and the next four minutes had a similar feel. They didn't actually make him sing that time either, and good thing, too. Viv had the feeling he'd have squawked like an outraged chicken or moaned like a five-dollar whore, had he attempted it. Because...

Holy shit, now Joe was kneeling in front of Viv, looking up directly into his face, moaning like he was Brittany or Kylie or Shania - of course Shania, goddamned Mutt! Joe fucking Elliott's voice, having sex with his ears. _...Go further than he's ever gone before..._ Surely Viv's legs would give out, Joe fucking Elliott on his knees for him but Rick moved behind him, arm around his belly just below his ribs. Viv lurched. Was Rick supposed to be the muscle? That arm felt like an iron band. He wasn't going to fall nor get away. 

Joe's big hands pawed his thighs while Phil and Sav, in some unchoreographed effort, took it in turns to unbuckle Viv's belt, pulling the leather strap this way and that, flicking the pin aside. Sav thumbed his button open, then Phil pinched the tab of Viv's zipper between his thumb and index finger like was a spliff and down it went but so slowly, Viv would have sworn he could feel every one of the little teeth come apart. All the while he stood there with trembling knees trying to remember if he had on ratty old pants or what, and he let them do it, didn't question, let them do anything to him, anything they wanted. 

Any straight bloke should have fought free or lashed out with fists. Why didn't he? He did have that reaction for a split second, to get them away from him but his hands twitched and that was all. Only, Viv wanted this, he found. Them. All of them. But how? 

Curiosity was a strong motivater. So was revenge, in a way. Joe had refused to call him by his name, only sneering 'the new guy' and 'that cunt' for so long, Viv was suddenly keen to see more of the bloke on his knees, at his service. And then, greed. Not just Joe but all of them were touching him, getting him off. Lastly - and Viv could hardly believe even thinking this to himself in the privacy of his own mind - he wanted to _see_ them. Doing that. Doing him. Doing each other. 

Sav reached into his pants - thank fuck, new-ish - to spring him free. An alarmed gasp escaped, with the first touch of another man's hand on him. So soft! It was Sav's pick hand. He actually fed Viv's dick into Joe's open, panting, waiting mouth. Oh, fuck, no hesitation! Lips closed on his quivering flesh and worked it. Joe was _experienced_ , and the thought only made him harder. Phil's hand slid down inside his pants, too, where his calloused fingertips tickled and played with his jewels till Viv was up on his toes, head thrown back and rolling on Rick's shoulder. Speaking of iron bands, Rick had grown hard against his arse, rubbing into the crack. There were lips on the back of Viv's neck, after someone pushed his long hair aside. A tongue-tip toyed with the downy-fine hairs along his earlobe, messing with his piercings and the jewelry in them. 

"Again, Aiden. Just put it on a continuous loop," Joe pulled his mouth off Viv's dick long enough to say. When Viv looked down, he saw pink and purple, lips and cock and then Phil took his mouth in a kiss so dirty he wondered if the man had ever been a virgin. Probably not since he was twelve. The man's tongue did things to his mouth that Viv had previously thought were reserved for genitalia. 

He whined for more. Hands, at least four, raised his shirt and slid all over his chest and belly. Fingers combed the crisp hair where it grew, tickled smooth skin where it didn't, and he felt lips on the back of his neck again. Wide-eyed, Viv blinked at his co-lead and mouthed, "This can't be happening." 

Phil's head listed to the side, his mouth gone slack, eyes half-mast; he slowly dropped to his knees in the trademark move that Viv had secretly dubbed the Phil-gasm and took over. His breath was hotter yet; his tongue was both slick and raspy and he whipped it around, as if trying to remove all traces of Joe before licking up the essence of Viv's taste. 

Getting out of Phil's way, Joe sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "After Phil gets you off," he said conversationally, "we plan to take this party to your place."

The suction tripled, Viv estimated. Sav turned his face to the side and kissed him sweetly, before his benign 'who me?' expression turned Savage and he was inhaling the air from Viv's lungs with his tongue while down below Phil sucked and slurped and drooled everywhere. Up and down, up and down, relentless. Viv's hips churned, every grind pushing his arse against Rick's hard-on, the head of his dick down Phil's throat being squeezed till there was no choice, no quarter, just raging bursts of come. Which was a lot, between the lead-up, all that sucking and Joe somehow managing to get a hand in edgewise to pinch Viv's nipple, hard. His balls convulsed and gave up their treasure till there was nothing left, while Phil still hoovered enthusiastically.

A cryptic message came through the speakers. _"We hope you enjoyed today's oral presentation. Please gather your belongings and your spunk and get the fuck out in an orderly fashion. Thank you for flying ground zero Dik Likker revisited_ \--"

"Oi!" Phil spit out Viv's thoroughly spent member to correct the unseen speaker, "you weren't with us back then!" 

"-- _please cum again. And again. And... I'll be in my bunk!"_ There was a static squawk of feedback followed by a beat of dead silence, then a door slammed in the distance. If Viv weren't awash in a post-orgasmic rush and the saliva of two of the men he'd worked with for the past several years still drying on his junk, he wouldn't have credited what had just... gone down... to any sort of reality. 

Rick, who had let go of Viv once he saw he was capable of standing on his own, elbowed Sav, who was busy adjusting himself. "I'll bet he will!" 

"You know it," Sav replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other bands/acts/songs mentioned or insinuated in Ch 2-3 are:  
> KC and the Sunshine Band: "Get Down Tonight"  
> Jesus Christ Superstar: "Superstar"  
> Prince: "Kiss" 
> 
> Brittany Spears  
> Kylie Minogue  
> Shania Twain - who used to be married to Mutt Lange, DL's producer for quite of lot of the 80s-90s


	4. Kings of Oblivion -  Cold Nights, Dark Days, Love Moves in Mysterious Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and the wind-up...

Still in a state of astonished incredulity, Viv floated on a cloud of endorphins and could barely remember the short drive from the studio to his rented flat. The previous scene played over and over on his mind's mental big screen. In the cramped space, crackling with the energy of four men on a mission with four full-fledged erections, he snorted so much testosterone that his wiring went faulty. Upstairs brain offline. Must be the reason for his tacit agreement, he kept telling himself. It was still raining, and the wipers beat and scraped their rubber rhythm against the windscreen in a masturbatory slap-slap. By the time they all found themselves in his flat, his dick was twitching again. Life!

They congregated in his kitchen, where he brought out a bottle of the good whisky - Irish, of course - and five short tumblers. "How do you want it?" he asked. Was it even a good idea to offer booze to Rick? He second-guessed himself, but the words were out and their drummer told him to make it a double so he poured it. 

"Neat," Sav replied, when Viv flicked his eyes at him. Yes, the man had had a hand on his junk earlier, but Viv could still barely look at him. 

Joe leered at him. Again. "Straight up."

When Viv got to Phil's glass, he stopped short. "Shite! Wasn't thinking. What do you want that I might have? Can't toast with water, it's unlucky." 

"Got mixers? Tonic water or cranberry juice is okay," Phil offered. "Kombucha?"

"Sorry!" Viv said regretfully, at a loss. 

"Look, no one _isn't_ getting lucky who wants to, so don't worry about that," Sav told him. 

Phil nodded and waved off Viv's concerns about tradition. "Water is perfectly fine."

Outvoted, Viv poured his own double shot, fished some generic spring water from the fridge for Phil, and they all raised their respective glasses. Through his open window, the last round of thunder rolled in the distance, nearly overshadowed by traffic noises. "To popping Viv's cherry!" Rick led the next round of BS.

"Sullying his honour!" sallied Sav, to which Joe hooted, "He'll be _ruined!_ What year are you living in, mate? To the final frontier." 

"And what galaxy did you warp in from?" Sav retorted. 

Like the rest, Viv held his glass aloft but only shook his head. Noticing, Phil sidled a little closer to him and concluded, "To Vivian Patrick Campbell, a full member." 

"'Full member'?" Joe sniggered. 

They laughed, and downed their shots. 

"You good now, or do you need more liquid courage?" asked Rick. His warm brown eyes held a challenge. 

Keeping his eyes locked on Rick's, Viv felt pressure from all sides. They had told him how it would be. Hadn't asked. Then the coercion of being kissed and fondled and sucked off by the collective hadn't exactly cleared his head. Fact was, he was standing there half hard again. Even his own dick had its head in their game. "I'll bring the bottle." 

He couldn't remember walking to his bedroom either, but here they all were. He could smell them; Joe stood so close, his internal generator warmed Viv's side before he moved away again, perhaps sensing the hesitation. All of them, every one, was some degree of hard, not trying to hide it. Of course they were all men, it wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, some of them more than others. But now, all that testosterone and raging blood was for him. Oh god! "So, uh, how do we do this?" Viv asked unnecessarily, voice a little unsteady, a little raspy. His fingers poised over one of his shirt buttons but otherwise refused to move. If they wanted him, they'd have to unwrap the goods themselves. 

No one spoke for a second. 'How' was probably not the right question. "As long as you're alright with this, it'll work itself out," said Phil, shirtless already. "Any other questions?" He waited, still as stone.

"Um... I... why now? I mean, it's been six years...!" Viv couldn't even put a sentence together. He looked at each of them in a sweeping gaze. His mates. His band. This bell couldn't be unrung. 

When Joe crossed his arms, Viv noticed how the fine hairs there were all standing on end. "It should have happened right away. Within the first year. The rest of us were too busy trying to convince ourselves we were all fine and life goes on. By now we've got each a failed marriage to our names and no one's getting any younger." There were a couple of nods to Joe's words. That explained the timing, but still not why overall.

Then Phil snapped his fingers and pointed at the bed. King sized although he usually slept alone, clean and perfectly made up with a dark blue duvet. The word Sav had used, 'sullied', came to mind as to what they were about to do to it. Viv looked at the smooth expanse and back to Phil, waiting for more. He got, "You, bed. No time like the present."

"You're the special of the day," Joe informed him, taking a step closer, then another, like he was stalking Viv, and didn't he look _hungry_. The lust in his eyes burned so intense that Viv might have backed up, only now Sav was behind him and he was trapped between the two taller men.

"Phil should go first," Rick said, grinning wide and sunny. Since when had he moved? But there he was in front of Viv now, too, next to Joe, his nipples hard enough to poke through his tee-shirt. Below, thin sweat pants left nothing to the imagination, making Viv blush for all he had seen the nude of younger Rick once. 

"That's right," agreed Joe. "He's the most... high strung. Sexually." All the man could do today was leer. Well, not 'all'; he had a talented mouth, that was for sure. 

"But he's the oldest," Viv said, dubious, as if Phil hadn't just bounced over to him like an over-excited five-year-old and plastered himself to his side, panting into his ear. Yep, that was a hard-on grinding Viv's hip. How, when had Sav managed to half unbutton Viv's shirt without him noticing that either? Cooler air turned his nipples into two erect little points which Sav alternated between, pulling the tiny centre nubs, and yeah, now Viv was panting, too, though he'd done nothing but stand there. Warm and solid, Sav's chest moved with each of his breaths. Reaching up and back, Viv managed to touch Sav's face without poking his eye out, grazing the slightest of stubble and his lips. Softest flesh kissed his fingers before sucking in the first two, halfway down. 

"Oh god..." Viv moaned, his dick rising so fast it nearly bent in half before Phil got him unzipped and untangled and took him out for the others to re-inspect. Phil's calloused workingman's fingers wrapped around him, and Rick's hand came forth to stroke just the head, circling with one fingertip, swiping up the tiny bead of iridescent fluid that shyly appeared. A little-boy grin spread across Rick's face as he tasted Viv's offering. 

They probably thought he was gagging for it. 

They wouldn't be so far off. 

Nervous as hell, if he was expected to somehow service all four of them, Viv looked up at Joe. He could do a touch of evil, too. Best let them know he wasn't exactly on what appeared to be their level, and maybe he'd be able to walk when this was over. "Your assumptions when we did shots weren't wrong. I've never been fucked. By a bloke. So don't break me too bad."

"My knob's the smallest, another reason for me to go first," Phil stated matter-of-factly, while he sidled around to lay down a line of nipping bites from Viv's jugular to his nipple. "You'll wanna work up to the... well, you'll see. Or not!" he laughed. 

"I've heard the rumors." Joe went around behind him now that Phil was in front and Viv's eyes flew open, finally making sense of the two Ricks snogging each other against the wall just a few inches past the extent of his reach. He wanted to touch, to join in but again he held back. Their lips met and crossed, moved together; he could see their tongues darting out and licking. Joe had Viv's sac cupped in one hand. The other gripped the front of his neck, something Viv found a little alarming; the suggestion of having his airway constricted made him as jittery as that of being bent over. And he'd just - belatedly - considered something else. "Who do I get to...?" 

"Whomever you want," Joe smoothly interrupted. "We all go both ways, and then both ways again." Viv gawped, he couldn't help it. How the fuck was he supposed to decide? Joe's arms moved, hands going to work at Viv's erection, playing with the foreskin. His breaths sent streams of warmth down Viv's neck and chest. 

Over by the bed, Rick laid a strip - a very long strip! - of condoms on the side table along with two - two! - bottles of lube. How the hell had he smuggled all that in? Here Viv had thought they were only smuggling plums, no oranges. Ferrets? His guts began to tighten for real. "Um... guys... I'm not so sure..."

"Don't worry, we're gonna take good care of you. It might hurt a little but in a good way, and only at first," Joe purred into his ear from behind. "The supplies are for everyone. We all want to show you how much we love you." There it was, out in the open, more naked than naked itself, more explicit than sex. 

"Oh, bugger you!" Viv retorted, pulling himself away. He must look a mess, sweating and exposed in the center of them. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Sav pulling Rick's tee up and over his head, then the drummer returning the favor. They were Northern pale, but seemed to shine from within. "You don't like me and you know it. I'm the little cunt, you've said it a thousand times..." 

"But I haven't," Phil cut in. "Anyway, that's how Joe does affection. Right, Sav?" 

There was a grunt of agreement, full of humor. "He's a paradox, our Joe is. The more he likes you, the more of a bastard he is to your face." 

"Guess he lluuurves meh then, eh?" Viv put on the Yorkshire accent for that line.

Phil's free hand clenched in the muscle of Viv's arse. Tossing his hair, Viv sagged and let Joe hold him up. "You want it?" the singer growled. 

"'Come'n get it from me'?" Viv groaned. "Yeah, I guess, do me, but I want someone under me, too." He looked around wild-eyed, sure someone would tell him no. "Sav..." 

Sav's expression was a patented, 'I knew he was gonna say me.' Out loud, he replied, "If you want..." 

"I want!" 

"Rick has a nicer arse than me." 

"Nicer how? Are you all bunged out?" 

Sav had the grace to blush. "I meant the shape. Only nicer one is yours... in leathers." 

"Wha--?!" He noticed Rick smirking and Joe glaring. As for Phil, it never seemed to matter to him what anyone said about anyone else's attributes, even his, positive or negative. He was horny. Majorly. Always. Period. Anyone could read that in his pointed features, all the sharper when he was trying to get some.

"I'm gonna need more dicks," Viv pointed at his own crotch and shook his head; everyone laughed. 

They undressed him, till every stitch was gone, tossed aside or to the floor. During the process, Viv kept reaching out, tugging at the waistband of Rick's sweatpants and the button on Joe's barely-holding-together jeans, but these attempts on his part were ineffectual, as if he was wearing mittens. 

Hands, fingers, lips and tongues trailed all over him. God help him, he gave himself over, open to anything. Rick nibbled the side of his neck while Sav licked his right nipple, then lower, and lower. Other than to shove his trousers down and extending his pawing to both cheeks, Phil continued to massage and play grab-arse. Viv was starting to feel like he was every single course of a holiday feast; when had he felt this vulnerable, physically vulnerable? They surrounded him and moved as a group. Male bodies, mature males, aroused but still mindful of his one area of inexperience. They wouldn't hurt him, Joe had said, except that which was quickly passed and on to pleasure. And then, after it was all over, the intangible wall would disappear. Viv held to that hope. 

What he felt swelled inside his chest, just it had between his thighs. They took turns kissing him, touching him between his legs in a series of teases so finessed he sometimes cried out for more, sometimes because it was too much. Two hands or three or four on his poor aching genitals, always one to hold his balls entrapped because they walked him to the edge again and again without letting him fly over. In his years, he'd had the odd three-some but nothing like this, never. Phil had kissed him earlier at the studio, but as they guided his body, he turned in slow circles, 360 degrees, 720, 1080, snogging and touching one after the other, letting them sample him. 

So many tastes! Phil's reminded him of seasoned hardwood, like the cool ebony of a fretboard. Conversely Joe, one of those people who exuded shimmer-visions of magnetism like a furnace and ran hot besides, was more heat than flavour. Surprisingly because Viv had been expecting something sweet, Sav tasted metallic, almost like blood. It was Rick who captured icing sugar and birthday cake, laced with a hint of weed aftertaste. 

Out of the corners of his eyes, he caught flashes of their interactions. Now it was Sav and Joe with their tongues deep in each other's mouths. Between him and them, Rick and Phil, Phil's zipper open and parted enough to show he went commando, stripped naked and got themselves and Viv onto the bed, where the others joined them. He was put on his hands and knees - no, elbows and knees - arse in the air, hair hanging down. Surrounded, he took comfort in the four-fold presence around him, although he couldn't look at them, only at his hands. He'd left his watch on. 

Someone got behind him, asking him to widen his knees. Phil, as he'd promised. "It's gonna be rough at first," came his raspy voice. "If you can't, no one will judge you."


	5. Sha La La La - Psychedelic Space Machine, Galactic Sugar High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Brilliant, Viv, you did good," Phil praised him. He stroked the dark hair back off the Irishman's sweaty forehead, expecting nothing.
> 
> From the others, between gasps: "You did." "Very enthusiastic showing." "Top form!" 
> 
> "Well, I wasn't faking it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Viv's been waiting for months! Bring on the first part of the man-pile. Keep in mind not everything Viv thinks or says will come to fruition. I hope you can also 'see' the different facets of relationships and personalities within the group (however fictional) and not just the sex.

He was breathing too hard. The space surrounding his face bordered by his hair hanging down on each side, grew too warm and humid. Had Viv been worried about breathing? None at all, lungs stilled, when something slippery touched down. 

With this task, Phil's dexterous right-hand fingers started with a tickle to surfaces that never saw the light of day, surprising Viv so much he jerked his head up, wide-eyed. "Gimme the bottle," he croaked and Phil growled, almost in unison. One meant whisky; the other meant lube. Someone handed him a half-empty litre and he took an awkward, sloshing slug. 

"Easy," Joe plopped down to sit cross-legged beside Viv on his right, laying an arm heavy over his back to provide support and stability. On the left, Rick did the same. He welcomed the warmth, the closeness although it was kind of intimidating, too. These men had been denied before - willingly, so he could imagine their need was that much greater now. When they'd undressed, he could only glance at the monster Joe unpacked and Rick wasn't so much smaller. This was not like showering after a gig, where the focus was scrubbing off sweat and stench. 

Viv had heard it said that erection was the great equalizer. He did not feel equal, though, nor erect at the moment, possibly because what Phil was doing to him felt so unnatural. Since neither man now bracing him had made a move to replace Phil or shove anything in his face, Viv relaxed a little again, which to hear Phil was exactly what he needed to do. 

Spreading the necessary slick, his co-lead toyed with him. A finger skimmed his rim. It went around, around, pressing inward. Jesus H., he was letting a bloke play with his arsehole, submitting to it. Not some nameless, faceless man but Phil, who'd gone from distant and apathetic to advocate to one of his best mates. Viv exhaled a long breath hearing Phil murmur praise, then he took another healthy swig of the whisky, tipping his head back and to the side. 

He swallowed, the burn of alcohol down his esophagus familiar. Phil picked that moment.

Yes, he'd been breached now, there was something going into him. Most of Phil's speed work was with his pick, where-as Viv used both hands, a lot of his effects coming from the strings themselves. This though, was the opposite of shredding in 1/64 notes. Phil had average-sized hands and it was only one finger, but god, so weird, not to mention the general idea of how it had to be if blokes wanted it from each other. He'd always avoided the subject, to some degree so as not to tarnish his appreciation of women, some of it thanks to his childhood training that it was a sin. By now he'd committed a bunch of those - lying, envy, lust, others that he refused to name and hid even from himself. What was a bit of anal between friends? 

Dropping his head again, Viv closed his eyes to block out the overabundance of sweating, excited men all around him and concentrated on just one, who was both relentless and gentle at the same time. "Another..." Phil warned. 

More width, more depth. It hurt a little at first. Since he had a better idea what to expect now, Viv rolled his shoulders a couple of times and let himself just accept it. He couldn't have done so if he didn't want this, that's what he told himself. Still, he couldn't help the unmanly little whimper that escaped. Along his flank and down to his arse, he felt Rick pat him and pet him.

Phil cleared his throat. "Alright, Viv?" 

"Mm-hm..." 

"Good... I think you'll like this next part." There were noises of agreement heard all 'round. 

"Oh, do you mean your knob?" he used Phil's euphemism of choice. Something in his intonation made the others chuckle. Viv couldn't imagine that he'd actually like it, not really. Maybe when he got used to it, he could handle taking it as long as he got to have his turns, too. For now, he was expecting more of a cerebral type of pleasure. 

Phil did something, curled his fingers or pressed on a different area... of course Viv knew the theory but the reality sparked pure honeyed lightning from some hot button inside him outward to his balls and his limbs. "Unnngh! Oh fucking gawd!" he blurted. "Phil!" He needed more of that! Blood rushed to his groin and the resulting heaviness rose. Face down or not, Viv blushed beet red as his lower body took over and jabbed his arse backwards against Phil's hand. 

"Soon, Viv. Somebody touch him. Give him a hand, but don't let him come," directed Phil, fingers moving in and out. He only teased that sweet spot. Now that Viv knew it was there, he felt like he was chasing those digits to touch it again. 

"Me." Sav's voice suddenly manifested in front of and above Viv, who hadn't noticed him leave nor reappear till just then. He seemed to reach over Viv's head, but by the time he looked up again, Sav had already sat down near the head of the bed and was leaning back. He was close enough for Viv to lick, but he kept his salivating mouth in check. "Move over, Joe," Sav requested when his leg needed to swing around. 

"Get under him," the singer murmured. Viv felt the vibration of his speech through their adjoining rib cages. "It's what he wants." 

"I will, once Phil gets him opened up all the way." Viv was surprised that Sav leaned into Joe's kiss right there immediately after he'd agreed to go 'under' Viv. Mostly he just heard the smacking noises and low groans. The two of them had undeniable chemistry but till that very day, Viv had always told himself they were just good friends and that they did it for the fans. Not just - he could see the familiarity of years now. It was so... hot, he couldn't think of any better word. Phil wiggled another finger in then and Viv was back to planting his forehead down on his forearms, panting and shuddering. 

He jumped again when Joe's hand reached under him, lazily stroking to bring him back to full hardness. "Good boy," Rick whispered in the region of his ear. 

Viv barked out a laugh. "'Boy'? You're younger than me!" He was trying to fuck Joe's hand, not as easy as it sounded with Phil's fingers working him inside, outside, skimming nerve endings no one ever had before. 

"But more experienced," the drummer countered. "Been watching you, you know. Like when you and Sav used to grind on the stage floor. Jesus, Viv. How's a man supposed to keep time?" 

"Uh..." Viv could feel Rick's thumb languidly stoking his skin at his waist while Phil full-on finger-banged him, "you could... see us from up there?" 

Chuckling, Rick told him, "Sav knew where to kneel down so I could." Another wordless grunt punched out of Viv's chest as he thrust into Joe's fist. It changed the angle of Phil's fingers in him, till that spot was pressed more firmly into the pads again and Viv knew he was as ready as he'd ever be. 

Phil must have sensed it. His fingers withdrew slowly and then Viv heard the tearing, latex-y noises he'd been expecting but... "Should I put one on now, too...?" 

"Allow me..." Joe's voice rumbled at him. He let go momentarily and then was back. For some reason Viv flinched, to feel the thin artificial layer being unrolled over his dick. By a bloke! With hands the size of dinner plates! The occasional woman had taken care of it but normally he considered it his job. "First time I got buggered," the frontman recalled with a touch of amusement, "I was limp as a wet noodle. Wonder I didn't piss myself."

"Oi!" Rick exclaimed. "It wasn't like that!" Feeling his eyes widen, Viv craned his neck, leaned his whole upper body around so he could see Rick for a second, who winked at him, entirely too smug. "Even then, you were trying to boss me around. Not like you knew anything about anything." 

Pressure against his ribs on the other side meant that Joe had opened his mouth and taken a breath through it to protest, Viv had seen it a hundred times. In that moment, Phil slid halfway into him till the grip of Viv's hole trying to slam shut and force him out stopped him. "Alright, Sav... this is where you come in," came Phil's gritty voice, blunt as always. "Hold on, Viv, relax and breathe, then you fuck him while I'm fuckin' you." 

A moment later, that's exactly what he was doing. His voice failed him, leaving Viv to wonder inside his own head about whether Sav needed him to use lube or do anything to... how had Sav himself described it? 'Open him up'. But no, the bassist's body wiggled down under his, his thighs opened around Viv's hips, and he reached between them to guide Viv himself. "Fuck.... Fuck...!" Sav repeated, forehead creased and eyes closed. It was slippery, and Viv, who was now taking most of Phil's hard-on for all that the stretch burned more than before, recognized that Sav had done it himself. Fuck! He wished he'd got watch Sav playing with his own bum like that. The small regret flew away as Viv lunged to bury his dick. A split second later, Phil's groin smacked against his arse and his balls plumped against Viv's. 

Viv wailed. He had no idea he could make a sound like that. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped he was satisfying Phil, now grinding away at him in short, sharp thrusts punctuated with little grunts, as much as this act of taking another man hit so many new notes for him. Cool blue eyes stared up at him and locked on his face; Sav's fingers clenched in his hair to hold it back. "Give it to me, Vivian. Everything you need, take it." 

This one and his little mannerisms, using formal names, calling a pick a plectrum, the eyeliner he was wearing artfully smudged... Viv needed to mess him up like only a dirty Irishman could. Up close, Sav's features were not as symmetrical as one might think. Maybe that actually improved the suction of his mouth, that one side of his upper lip was slightly higher. One gold earring, not two; his jaw a bit off-kilter; the hollow under his left cheekbone deeper than the right. Viv added to it, biting and sucking a violent hickey onto the side of his neck. Rather than protest, Sav arched and shoved a leaking erection against Viv's belly, which encouraged his caveman instincts. And his salivary glands, again; he swallowed a mouthful of drool to groan forthrightly, "I wanna suck your cock!" Where the fuck had that come from? He wanted Sav on his knees, was it some projected turn-about? 

A half-second later, Phil thrust into him harder, then picked up the tempo. "He'd like that... and I'd like to see it." 

"Even more than being the first he services?" Sav replied, his eyes roving beyond Viv's face to Phil's above and behind him. 

"He's servicing me right now," Phil pointed out the obvious, cheeky. One of his hands moved to Viv's shoulder and pulled down with force. Till then, Sav's touch had been light. He tightened his hold on Viv's mass of corkscrew curls, which he'd gathered into a loose, messy ponytail in one hand, and his upper arm. 

A minor shock went through Viv as he realized they were competing over him. But why? At this very moment, something they'd all agreed upon, Phil was up his arse, his first, and he was letting it happen, actively participating. He doubted he'd be any better at fellatio than any other absolute novice, so was it his unexpected blurt that ignited something? He didn't know, and he couldn't think about it anymore as he tried to find a rhythm between the two other men. It worked when he thrust counterpoint to Phil. He couldn't squeeze his butt like he normally would do, and tightened his abs instead. 

Something else in his face was becoming a compulsion. Had been for years, he understood that now. "Sav... can I kiss you?" 

"Of course." He got what he asked for. No hesitation, just soft lips and an assertive tongue tangling with his. They kept their eyes open. He didn't have to lower his lids nor turn his head away, not now, and never again. Viv tried to stamp each visual impression, the unique scents of them and the way different areas of his skin felt as their hands touched - Phil's gripping his hips like a clamp, Sav's in his hair and caressing his upper body, Joe's and Rick's all over his thighs and in random spots as if their presence outlined and made him whole - into his memory. 

Now that Phil sunk in and pulled nearly all the way back with each thrust, Viv got the full effect of that rub against his prostate. He was on fire! Hot, electric tension built systematically, for Phil was a machine and Sav was the safety net he fell into over and over as they took him higher. The coordinated movement got easier; he pistoned, aware of how the coarse black hair on his chest and belly abraded Sav's not entirely hairless torso while Phil's furry abdomen and wiry pubes scrubbed at his backside. 

"I'm gonna come...!" Phil had been silent for a while except for ragged panting. Unbelievably, when he leaned forward to kiss Viv's spine, the combination of rough and tender along with strong twitching pulses _inside him_ followed by the heat of Phil's explosion set him off. He wished so badly to see his co-lead's face in true ecstasy. On stage, mid-solo, Phil could fool anyone into thinking he was about to cream himself. What his real O-face must look like!

"Yes, here it is, here it comes," groaned Viv, and then what he was hearing from his own mouth echoed that fucking song to start, with his own improvisation, "unngh, yeah, oh yeah, comin', comin' on yer dick...!" Slamming home, he shook through the onrush of his release as it ripped through him. Orgasm flashed in his balls and, he'd have sworn, that inner gland, radiating outward in muscular spasms in his groin, arse, down his legs and up his back. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the gushes of his seed fill the condom. 

"Just a little more, Viv, please!" Sav whined - not so formal now - but Viv was done, stoned, fit for nothing but to flop onto his back. Somehow he disengaged. Cooler air hit his sweat-covered belly as he peeled away. His mouth hung wide open, just like his arsehole felt, and he was probably cross-eyed. 

In his peripheral vision, Viv could see Joe assertively take over what he'd left uncompleted. "Don't worry, Sav, luv, yer not gonna go unsatisfied..." Even in his post-orgasmic stupor, Viv turned his head enough to watch; he couldn't take his eyes off the display of two pale long-limbed male bodies working together, of the power and testosterone in their rutting. Still on his back, Sav was hardly passive. Viv had never seen another man writhe like that in the throes of sex but there was no other word. Joe had himself propped up on one elbow, Sav's dick in his other hand like he owned it, looking over at Viv with his teeth bared. Both men moaned to raise the roof. His neighbors were going to think someone was shooting gay porn in his flat. Hopefully no one complained to the management. 

Crawling alongside him, Phil curled his naked body somehow around Viv's head like a mama around its young, the exception being a hard - again? still? - bare cock in the vicinity of Viv's forehead. "Brilliant, Viv, you did good," Phil praised him. He stroked the dark hair back off the Irishman's sweaty forehead, expecting nothing. 

From the others, between gasps: "You did." "Very enthusiastic showing." "Top form!" 

"Well, I wasn't faking it." No one could accuse Viv of that. Grimacing a little, he reached down to peel the condom off his spent cock. 

"No, I don't think you have that in you," pronounced Phil, and again Viv reveled just a little bit in the kudos. 

Beside them, Sav cried out sharply. Joe was moaning again, musical, wordless. "Oh good christ," Viv groaned as Rick moved in behind Joe, who pushed his knees wider apart on the sheet and arched to ease his access. "What the hell is he...?" 

Phil's hand moved languidly up and down along the side of Viv's face, forefinger brushing the shell of his ear. "Watch." 

That was about all Viv could do. Really, he was much more surprised than confused: 'We all go both ways' or not, the idea of Joe in the middle struck him as the epitome of the unexpected. 

There were legs everywhere. Rick, who glanced at Viv a moment, eyes heated, on his knees between Joe's longer thighs - Sav's flung wide around both of them - made a distinct move that resonated with Viv as one human entering another. Power and thrust, but restraint at the same time. Joe froze. He must have greased his own hole, too, Viv reflected. Sav's hands upon his chest brought him out of it, and he resumed his rhythm. As Rick's head tipped forward his unbound hair swung to hide his face buried in Joe's shoulder, kissing and licking the tense frame by the sound of it. 

Viv got the idea that what he was seeing didn't happen but once in the bluest of moons. Unable to look away from the tangled ebb and surge of the man-pile so close but so far, Viv hoped Phil understood he was being addressed when he said, "You can join them, if you want." 

"Nah, mate. You shouldn't be left alone."

"I... appreciate it." There was more to his and Phil's conversation, but first they had some raunch to finish watching. 

When he focused his complete attention on the three-man tussle, Viv realised it was Rick who was driving. Well, he supposed the drummer had the most physical job. The core job. And wasn't Joe carrying on non-stop like he was being drilled to the core, while Sav grunted and gasped in time to the thudding symphony of flesh-on-flesh? 

Viv had never taken Rick as a noisy fucker but he let loose in filthy dialogue so heavily accented that Viv could only make out half the words. Those gold-brown eyes glittering through messy hair focused on him as Rick clung to Joe, cheek pressed to his scapula. Contrary to the stream of swearwords ending with, "Christ bleedin' from yer mum's minge", the most angelic expression dropped years off him, such that perhaps a halo should appear. And that was their little paradox of bright shining, and darkness. Eyes rolled back at the end, he came so hard his body gave a series of jerks. 

Though he couldn't see it, he could hear Sav getting off as well. The pumping of Joe's hips, then his right arm loosened Sav's tongue, although his vocabulary was reduced to 'oh yes god, fuck me Joe'-type repetitions. Viv could smell it, too. Same as when he'd tasted Sav's skin, the scent of his semen was not what Viv had expected but something vaguely astringent. 

He couldn't really process it all though he wanted to, didn't want to lose any piece of the day since he'd stepped into the soundbooth. This was a milestone, whether they talked about it again or ever did it again or not. Weird emotions ballooned inside him. He wanted to think it was love. Not the romantic kind per se, yet over time it might have a chance to develop. What he felt was more fraternal or so he imagined, something like the bond he imagined these blokes had had all along, born of mutual history, goals, respect and attraction, but that was a bit messed up, wasn't it? Underneath was a repressed pinch of shame. He'd have to make his peace with losing his virginity, in a sense, at his age. The others had been so much younger, did they even remember how identity-altering it felt, physically and otherwise? His eyes were trying to close. Joe hollered as he came, then dropped onto Sav with Rick still behind and on top of him. 

"Well, that's done." Phil clucked his tongue, left Viv's environs and came back with the miniature bin from next to his bed to collect the various used prophylactics. Viv's was next to him on the sheet, reminding him of a dead slug. He wrinkled his nose but stayed aware long enough to toss it into the bin. 

"Good little hausfrau," Joe purred. It wasn't like there was anyone to clean up after them - it would be Viv who would have to do laundry when this was all over. 

Viv grinned to himself when Phil flipped Joe the bird. Then he was drifting, beyond seeing or hearing but conscious of the sensation of a blanket being pulled over him, which he was grateful for. Cooling sweat wicked warmth away. He'd have to say thank you later. Yes, thank you. Gratitude, that was his final emotion. 

TBC...


	6. Guilty - If it's wrong to feel this right I can't help it and I won't fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the man-pile.

"Who's next?" 

He'd been drifting on the remnants of chemicals: alcohol and the waning effects of endorphins. The firm mattress held him, a sheet and blanket secured him, two other male bodies bookended him. 

Nearly asleep, Viv came to the surface fast when those words cut through the haze. He remembered. After the three longest-standing members of Def Leppard had untangled themselves, Rick had flopped down in the middle next to Viv with the other two beyond him. Phil, once finished attending to clean-up, had laid down on Viv's other side. Between the five of them, there was little to no room. Sav and Joe shared the comforter. The blanket normally below it covered Viv just fine, but Phil and Rick kept tugging at the edges of it till finally everyone stretched and yawned and sat up. It was only mid-afternoon, after all. 

Viv did notice that Phil had directed the question at _him_ , not the other three. Just the same, his belly tightened with nerves again. By now he knew exactly what he'd have to deal with, the length and breadth, so to speak. "Um... I... really? All of you? Joe blew me, so did Phil. Then Phil fucked me while I had Sav. Then you three," he made a little circle in the air with his finger in the direction of which three, "all did each other. No one's missing out here..." He sounded kind of desperate, summarising like that. Talk, talk, talk, as if they hadn't been there.

After a pause, like no one had anticipated this, Rick asked him, "Have you had enough, then? We don't want anything you don't want." He pulled at the blanket to cover his junk, more for Viv's benefit or so he assumed. The disturbed air was so ripe with pheromones that Viv sniffed, his sinuses tingling, before his nose ran. 

"Are you sore?" wondered Phil, who yanked on his side of the blanket again and undid Rick's work. 

"The kind of ointment you'd use for cuts and scrapes works good for that," said Joe, a little smirk hovering on his lips.

"Don't let him apply it for you unless you want a lot more than a finger," Rick advised Viv dryly. "He thinks it makes good lube, too." 

Wow, these blokes. "Maybe... we could just quit talkin' about it and lay down all together again and see what happens." Not in the midst of orgasm this time, Viv couldn't quite believe - again - that his own mouth had formed those words, especially when Joe more or less verbally pounced. 

"Now that's more like it! I vote for a Viv sandwich with me and Rick as the bread since you other two got your share." The frontman was practically rubbing his hands together. 

"As I recall, you were the meat in your own sandwich very recently. You slut," Viv told him, straight-faced, and then grinned. He hearkened back to Joe's stage-wear from his first year with them. 

"Likewise, yeh cunt!" Joe lifted his nose in the air for a second. So haughty. Then nothing but horny. "C'mere now, sweetheart." 

Over the years, Viv had heard Joe call a few women by lovey-dovey pet names. Not him! His eyebrows shot up, questioning. Joe nodded and Viv slowly approached on his knees, eyes cast aside. They were all inspecting him, every freckle and hair; he could feel their eyes. "What're you gonna do with me?"

"What would yeh like us to do?" Joe sat back against the headboard, long legs extended in front of him, rising hard-on shading from pink to dusky red in his lap. "C'mon babe, ride me." 

"That thing? You're taking the piss." 

"Fine. We'll save the best for last." Protests of "Oi!" and "The hell you say!" rose from various points around the bed. "Tell you what..." Joe looked up at Viv, a very new perspective indeed, and moved his legs farther apart, "you can grind on me while Rick and Sav each have a go. Rick is longer, Sav is thicker." Viv could barely process this forthright commentary that no one seemed to mind, only the next line was so 'Joe', he had to laugh: "I'm both. Now that's enough about cock size and we'll let you decide who's best." 

"It's a contest?" Viv wondered. He looked down at himself, about half hard. No one had said anything about his junk or how he ranked. He decided he didn't want to know, not today. "What about Phil?"

"Don't worry, I'm happy to play with whoever's not busy," came the London-accented voice in good humour. Viv had no problem envisioning himself with Phil, not only because he _had been_ but before, if he admitted it to himself, perhaps because they were both guitarists. It was another oddity to think of himself - for real, not fantasy - with any of the others. Well, there went his preconceived notions, shattered again. That other guitarist and Rick were engaged as of five seconds ago with something similar to his and Joe's activities, which saw them kissing sweetly but hungrily. Cradling Viv's face between his hands, Joe cut his fine green eyes upwards. 

There was no way around it. No, they weren't forcing him to do anything, only asking, offering, and he wanted it. Careful of where his knee landed, Viv straddled Joe's lap and took the opposite position to that which had always been one of his favorites. They shared a few kisses, a farflung adjunct in this strange new world. Surprisingly passive, Joe responded to the direction of his newbie's lips and opened his mouth enough to accept his tongue, when Viv was ready. Tasting of whisky and nicotine, the palate of the lead vocalist formed refined, silent replies to his kisses. 

A presence came up behind him. Without looking, he perceived it was Sav. Hands landing on his shoulders didn't startle him at all. If his skin had not been attached, it might have rose up to meet those fingers and palms. Other parts of him tightened and rose, his response obvious to all but especially to Joe. 

One thing quickly became clear: Sav may have lain on his back and spread his legs for Viv. He touched and prepped with such precision that Viv barely felt a twinge. But once he was in, the spread extracting a long, low moan from Viv, he used his entire being to thrust and rut and grab and pull, and he made a lot of noise. Smooshed between the two Brits, Viv lost himself in sensation: Skin on skin from two sides, Sav's balls swinging against his, Joe's erection and his own throbbing against their bellies in parallel friction. 

"Like that?" Joe asked. "He fucks so good, doesn't he?" His voice held something like pride. "Hurry up, Sav... I can't wait all day."

"You mean, All Night?" Viv drew back enough that Joe could see his face when he stuck out his tongue. "Ohfuckyes!" 

"Cheeky bastard!" 

Sav had his chin hooked over Viv's shoulder, hands running all over the front of his body except where he needed it most, ramming him in quickening thrusts. Viv wished he could see the grind, the hip-roll, and the sinuous latent power of his upper body all in motion to serve his pleasure. He could only imagine, and groaned. 

"Don't come. Not yet," Joe ordered him, even though he had wiggled one hand down between them, stroking Viv, watching the appear-disappear inside his fist. It was fine for him to say, but Viv was starting to get oversensitive and he was pretty sure it would be either come with or before Sav, or live with a bad case of blueballs till he could get it up again to wank.

That was one problem Sav wouldn't have. The gaspy-growly sounds and accelerated motions of approaching orgasm behind Viv became the main focus of everyone's attention for an interval. From his perspective, Viv felt hyper-aware of Sav's thighs and knees between his. The man's arms tightened - one around his waist, one crossed diagonally over his chest - their sweat-slicked skins' surfaces skidding. Sav was panting into his ear, to which Viv turned his head to angle into the canal, the delicious non-existent air-friction going straight to his dick. Droplets of his juices fell onto Joe's groin like tiny, clear, liquid crystals. Viv watched one run on down into near-black pubes before another fell. Sometimes he forgot Joe wasn't a natural blond. 

"Go on, Sav," Rick murmured. "Come for us." Till then Viv hadn't sensed their drummer move in so close. He was beginning to get claustrophobic, and was relieved to hear Sav's voice alternating between deep groaned dirty words and high-pitched yelps when heat burst forth inside him. 

Riding it out while Sav's rhythm faltered into irregular spasms, he let his head drop back, way back. His balls had tightened from feeling the bassist come, elevated, but Joe trapped them under the circle of his forefinger and thumb. "Not just yet, Viv." Probably unnecessary. He wouldn't say, but he wasn't close enough yet and the slippery squiggle when Sav slithered out of him was honestly kind of gross.

With Rick behind him, it was different. Less grabbing and squeezing and bracing. Viv leaned forward against Joe's chest, sure he could feel the thundering heartbeat within. After Sav, he didn't need further stretching. Rick slid into him easily enough, gloved and slicked as they'd all been. The frank, spoken assessment had been correct: once fully buried, a longer tool touched places inside no one had yet. Viv arched for it and grunted with each deep prod. 

"If you like that, y'know what would feel even better? Missionary." Rick told him. Viv must have conveyed his skepticism, because Rick went on, not breaking rhythm, "Modified missionary. If I lean way back, I can massage the hell out of your sweet spot." The option was left entirely up to Viv. He blushed a little again at the mention of his intimate anatomy. 

Giving them each an elongated minute to really feel the deep, shocky pleasure of each thrust, Viv answered eventually, "Yeah Rick, I wanna try it. Three of you from behind's enough." Three times in any position was more than enough. 

The drummer pulled out slowly. Viv groaned at feeling the fissure then ridge, then the reverse kiss of the round head leaving him. Joe's hand no longer grasped him. 

Somehow, Rick guided him down, onto his back. A moment later, he was hovering over Viv, maneuvering his legs into place around his hips with just body positioning. Viv waited for the breach. And waited. On his back with his legs spread was just as unnerving, in a different way, as being arse up. Smirking down at him, curls bouncing around his face, Rick stage-whispered, "You're gonna have to line things up."

"Oh right... Sorry!" 

Viv looked up into the shadowed eyes of the man the others called the Thunder God, to whom they paid tribute every show. When they all got their intros, Joe added often the honorific of Mister to their names as if they needed anyone to designate a gender or their innate specialness. Point being, this bloke had a title much higher. Viv didn't mind a bit of showboating, but Rick never did that; he acknowledged all those who loved him and played on. 

It had come to mind in fleeting thoughts before, since getting to know Rick, how it must have been for him, though how could he truly know? Losing a hand or arm would put an end to playing for a guitarist; a drummer needed all four limbs. Hell, a couple of fingers less on his fret hand and Viv didn't know how he'd ever manage. He didn't consider the electronic rigging in Rick's kit cheating any more than the amount and complexity of effects he and Phil used was cheating. 

More than that, a reconfigured body would alter a man's perception and image of himself, inner as much as outer. Viv had seen glimpses Rick shirtless and nude occasionally after gigs when they hit the showers but he always averted his eyes same as he did with everyone out of respect for their privacy, only with Rick, it was to one extra degree. Viv wouldn't say he was squeamish. He just didn't want any misunderstandings should he be caught staring. 

Rick seemed to read his mind. "Go on... look." He sort of waved his shoulder. "Touch if you want. Joe, would you help him out..." 

Joe leaned over, reached out with one long arm. Viv might have flinched, which was stupid considering Joe had held his dick in his hand - and mouth - a bunch of times. However, instead, the long, thick fingers curled around Rick's erection and unerringly plugged it back in, that was Viv's impression. He must be drunk or loopy, tired or high, or all of the above. 

Of all of them, Rick had the least amount of hair on his chest, limited to just a few in the middle of his sternum. Viv found himself surging up to lick the smooth skin, and continuing his exploration upwards and to his right. It wasn't without trepidation. Surely this was too weird. First he lapped at the tiny beaded nipple, and then... Rick leaned down further. Viv's hands slid up his back, then one down again. Whoever had said it, had not been wrong about the superior quality of the drummer's arse. He was suddenly hyper-aware of how his legs had come up to encircle Rick's body, another thing that women had done to him but he'd never imagined of himself. Now he understood the instinct. 

"Go on, I'm... I can take it," Viv said, a little defiantly as his fingers found scar tissue and Rick sucked in a breath. 

"If you say so," winked Rick. He pulled halfway out. Gave a flip of his eyebrows, and Viv steeled himself. 

At first, Rick fucked him in nearly typical missionary position. Unlike any of the other instances since the studio, they kissed hungrily during the bounce and roll, eyes open. Their breath came faster and faster, some sort of connection he'd never felt before to Rick beginning to form. Maybe this was Rick's power - he was the center of the wheel and the rest of them were the spokes. 

It became a group effort, just like it had been in the sound booth. Sav knelt behind Rick to support him when he leaned back as promised. As the shift tilted Viv's pelvis up perforce, the pressure and pleasure to his, as Rick had called it, sweet spot spiked. A hand landed on his thigh. He looked down to see Phil's head in his crotch, where he flicked his tongue and applied suction with no discernible pattern. 

Viv didn't know how long he could take the sight of Rick's... it was different seeing it from the front, that exact gyration being used on him. When it had been Sav under him, and in that sense, facing him, the position was familiar. Watching Rick bugger Joe, he hadn't actually been involved. Yeah, it felt good but what he was getting off on was the visual. Holy shit, baby had some moves. Viv wasn't so sure he'd ever be able to look at Rick and not see an overlay of him sweaty, naked and glistening, _doing him._ He could see the climax wash over Rick's face in a sneer and squinched-shut eyes, could feel the heat inside him.

Between that and Phil going down on him for real he was getting there. The plateau held for almost too long, then suddenly his own filthy groans announced he'd reached the peak. His stones had little left to give. A moment later, Phil sat up, wiping his mouth. "Them's the dregs, eh?" he smirked.

Viv panted, "Bitching about... the taste... or the quantity?" Seriously zoned out, he stared up at the ceiling, blinking. Yes, the room was spinning. Slowly and sort of intermittently like a carousel with a novice operator, but spinning. 

"Neither! How was it? _Was it good for you, too?_ " Phil asked in a cheesy voice, as if he were unsure of the answer he'd receive. 

Viv closed his eyes. How should he even reply? 'Good' was such a generic term. He chuckled, although it probably sounded more than a bit loony. "It was all good." 

The bed jiggled and he sensed movement from his other side, opposite Phil. When he pried his eyelids open again, Joe was peering down at him. "You got another round in you? Or you know, I don't mind if you just lie there." 

Viv stared into his heated eyes, refusing to be unnerved. "I can't handle it, Joe. Not today, not after these three fuckers. You lot are gonna have to carry me to the shower, swear to god my knees are nothin' but jelly..." and his arse was raw, "and you goddamn know that thing's..." Viv trailed off and rolled his eyes; he wasn't about to repeat yet another refrain. 

The singer looked disappointed, but he didn't try to cajole. "Another day then. lt's alright." Oh, so if this had been a test, he'd passed, and there _would_ be a next time. Already Joe was on to his next thought. "Phil, just bend over for me, will you? Know you like feeling it up in your throat." 

"Need it like that from you, Joe!" Phil rolled around and got himself on his elbows and knees, similar to the position Viv had been in earlier. Out of pure curiosity, Viv sat up and moved closer because Joe, despite their impatience, was taking the time to lube and stretch Phil's entrance. Viv hadn't seen the process before. Eagerness in every line of him, Phil threw his hair and shook and moaned, and after a minute Joe was pushing in. 

Sure, it was sex: rampant, man-on-man sex, which was still a new wrinkle for Viv. Despite the muscle and body hair and not a feminine sound or scent in the room, as Viv watched Phil, not a big guy himself, get reamed good and hard by the tallest of them, obviously loving every second of it, it resonated with him, too. How could it not? From his position on elbows and knees, Phil had his head back, the lines and curves of his body all tight and his eyes closed, teeth bared, hissing and moaning. It got louder, rose in pitch to a squeal. 

He'd been so intent on the motion of Joe's arse and the flopping of his mullet that Viv startled a bit to realise he was surrounded yet again - by the Ricks. Glancing sideways at one, then the other, he was struck by how alike they looked. It could have been partially the long curly blond hair, reddish in one and highlighted over dark in the other. But not entirely. Maybe sometimes if people spent enough time together that happened, like old married couples or dog owners with their beloved pets. Viv would never look like any of the others, which had been a sticking point with fans and inside his own head. 

Rick brushed his hair back, a gesture so tender that Viv's eyes prickled. Damn, he must be truly fucked out. Giving a little half-smile, he looked back to the roiling, fucking, living statuary before him. Not for much longer - no one could sustain that bed-shaking rhythm forever. Viv marveled at their stamina and wondered if there'd been chemical assistance involved as Joe's face and upper body went slack and Phil's stiffened till every muscle locked. Of course Viv knew it would happen but the volley of frothy-white shots from underneath was still a shock to witness live and uncensored. Both parties beaded on him as they came, the gesture very specific. Viv wondered once again if they'd planned it. 

After, Joe pulled out immediately and tossed his rubber across the room. A couple of giggles accompanied the action. "He hates them." Rick muttered, to which Sav added, "Don't we all?"

And yet they used them, not taking chances with each other. Viv intended to get to the bottom of that someday soon. Status. History of another sort. 

He made to stand up and couldn't, so he didn't try after the first half-lurch going nowhere. Yes, his arse felt ravaged, maybe because it was. His balls felt as if they'd turned to dust from overuse, too raw to even touch. If he'd been a young lad, he might have another round or two in him. Not today.


	7. To Be Alive: (Any Time) It sure feels right To be alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The outro. _"is this how you got inducted?"_

"Is this how you got inducted, Phil?" Viv had to know, needed to ask now before anyone got up from where they still lounged on his bed - and on each other in some cases. Rick was spooned behind Joe, his eyes as usual snapping with mirth over the singer's shoulder. Not that they'd had many line-up changes over the life of the band. For more than 15 years, Phil had lived and breathed Leppard as much as any of the pre-existing members. The other guitarist had been with them long enough that some people tended to forget it was not always so. Others: those wankers never forgot. 

Phil harrumphed. "Back then, boys might dress like girls and wear make-up and all, but what snogging and shagging went on had to happen behind closed and locked doors." 

"What do you call that?" Viv waved at the door to his room which was in fact open, but he'd shut and dead-bolted the door to his flat. "We're not giving the world a free show." It wasn't lost on him that Phil hadn't really answered. 

"That you know about...!" He'd have sworn Phil's teeth had just winked at him. "Taking the piss, Viv! Consider this your crash course; I discovered one at a time how arrow-straight this lot were _not._ " 

"Even Steve?" Viv had to ask. The room fell silent, but for their breathing. Eyes met eyes, glanced away and met other eyes. Oh, shite. Had he stepped in quicksand? 

"That shouldn't surprise you," Phil told him. 

"Yeah," added Joe. "All of us. But only with each other."

"Phil said he discovered one at a time. Why is it that I get..." Viv had to think about how to put it, "quadruple-teamed?" 

Tension broken, Rick offered, "Making up for lost time." 

"We all wanted you in this with us, no one wanted to wait any longer," added Sav. 

Viv shook his hair forward to avoid their laser-sharp eyes, damn the last modest bone in his body. He addressed Phil again. "Did it surprise you? Finding out?"

"Mmm, a bit. Pleasantly so." 

"Right." Viv turned his head. He got jabbed in the face by something blunt and wet. "God, Phil, are you always sprung?" Never-the-less, he gathered himself, then licked salty-sweet syrup from the source. Oh, he shouldn't be starting something he couldn't finish. 

It took Phil a moment to find words. "Mmm, Viv! No, not always. It needs to rest, you know. It's quite traumatic, physically, what happens when a man gets an erection. Vessels distending, trapped blood, the force it takes to ejaculate." 

"Never thought of it like that." He didn't want to leave Phil hanging - or not hanging, as it were, but Viv didn't think he was up for the end result quite yet. "When I woke up this morning, this would have been at the absolute bottom of the list of things I'd have thought might happen to me today."

In the background, someone sniggered, "Absolute bottom, listen to him!" under his breath. 

Phil took Viv's chin in hand, squirmed around and got them eye to eye. "But you wanted it, right?"

"Once I realised you all weren't just takin' the piss, yeah. Fuck yeah! You know, it's like a weight's been lifted or something. I'd wondered, suspected, about you four being more than friends. Never would have asked, though."

Phil's hand slid away although not in an unfriendly manner. "Why not?"

"If I'd just blurted it out and been wrong, I would have had to quit." No way would Viv have been able to continue being in the band had such an 'accusation' been made and been unfounded. If he were to leave, suddenly the farthest thought from his mind, it would be his own impetus, his own decision. 

Unsurprisingly, Phil had picked up on that. "You've been considering it anyway." It wasn't a question. 

"Not anymore. Probably not. There's just a minor thing or two..."

"Such as?"

"For one, if you lot turn into a bunch of pop-tarts, I'm gone. And... don't ever make me play that song live. Because what happened in the studio today...? It'll come up again," he winked.

"Oh." Phil looked surprised and slightly shocked. "Your knob never gets hard when you're playing?" 

"Well, um, not never-ever, but why tempt fate?" 

Fin.


End file.
